It was today — rather yesterday I think — that he told me it was important not to accept life as a brutal approximation.

President Bush almost killed me.

I wanted to know that he would be okay if I died. I wanted to not be a grenade, to not be a malevolent force in the lives of people I loved.

How could he save the life of a man who’d murdered his in laws and then attempted to murder him?

Well, had he been cautious, he would’ve probably killed the first individual before leaving to get the second girl, but in this instance since we’ve agreed he wasn’t acting cautiously, he hadn’t killed the first girl when he abducted the second.

Use some reverence. Remember what he was only a minute ago. You wouldn't have dared laid a hand on him.

Plus fait douceur que violence.

She didn't kill him," explained the Iceman. "She could have saved him, but she chose not to. Legally it's not the same thing; morally it is.

He wasn’t afraid of dying, only of having not done all he could, and not properly spitting in the eye of death when it came for him. That final gesture was important.

The man that blushes is not quite a brute.

You nearly died today,' he says. 'I almost shot you. Why didn't you shoot me, Tris?'
'I couldn't do that,' I say. 'It would have been like shooting myself.'
He looks pained and leans closer to me, so his lips brush mine when he speaks.

Pilate was merciful till it became risky.

A man can suffocate on courtesy.

If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.